Chapter 19 villain on the bell tower

What time is it, villain in the clock tower? —The old proverb everyone knows that generally the best place in the world is—or, alas, was—the little German town of Wodenwortimitis.However, because it is quite far from any major road, it seems to be isolated from the world, and probably few of my readers have been there.For those who have not been there, I should describe it in depth; all the more so because I hope to win public sympathy on behalf of the inhabitants. Here I relate some unfortunate events that have recently occurred in this small town.No one who knows me will suspect that since I have voluntarily shouldered this burden, I will do my best to be strictly impartial. I will carefully investigate the facts and ask authority figures to do a careful collation. , and such collating can even make aspiring historians stand out.

With the help of medals, manuscripts, and inscriptions, I can say with certainty that the town of Wodunwothimitis has remained exactly the same from its beginnings to the present.However, when it comes to the date of the town's first founding, sadly, I can only give an answer that is half vague and half certain, so mathematicians sometimes have to use some algebraic formulas to solve problems. I can say that, from its ancientness and remoteness, the city is in no way older than any well-documented age. As for the origin of the name Woddenwater Metis, I must sadly confess that I am puzzled.Of the many views on the subject—some perceptive, some profound, some quite contrary—I cannot find a single one that is satisfactory.Perhaps Mr. Winebag's opinion—almost identical to Mr. Rice Bag's—was a little better.It reads thus: Wodun Wotimitis—Wharton, calming thunder—Wotimemitis, near lightning—an old word is, to face the lightning.In fact, the derivation is also verified by a few streaks of lightning on the top of the steeple of the town council building.However, I decided not to dwell on such an important issue, but must obtain the following reference books to consult the information the reader expects to know--"Speeches of the Ancestors by Insinuations" by Mr. Fool, see also "Derived pp. 27 to 5010 of "The Word", Gothic edition, black and red font, with eyebrow titles, without annotations; see also Marginal Notes of Mr. Braggart's manuscript commented by Mr. Eater and Drinker.

Although there is no way of knowing when Wodunwothimitis was founded or where it got its name from, there is no doubt that the town, as I mentioned earlier, has continued to this day as it appears to us.The oldest old man in town could not remember a single change in its appearance; and, indeed, any suggestion of the kind would be considered an offense.The village stood in a perfectly circular valley, about a quarter of a mile in circumference, surrounded by hills which the townspeople never ventured to climb.For this, the townspeople gave an excellent reason. They didn't believe that there was anything beyond the mountain.

Around the edge of the valley (which was flat and covered with flat tiles) stood sixty small houses in a row.They were set against the hills and faced the plain, and the front door of each cottage was only sixty yards from the center of the plain.In the small garden in front of the house there is a circular path, a timer and twenty-four cabbages.The houses are so similar that it is impossible to tell one from the other.The houses are odd in style because of their age, but they would not have been so striking and unique had it not been for this reason.Because of the fire-fired small bricks with black ends and red middle, the outer wall of the house looks like a chessboard with enlarged scale, which is very fashionable.The gables at both ends are towards the front, and the cornice above the eaves and main entrance is the same size as the rest of the house.The narrow and deep windows were many panes and panes of neat glass.The roof is covered with countless long ear tiles.All the carpentry here is of a dark tone, and they are intricately carved, but in a single pattern, and long ago the carvers of Wodunwothimitis could only carve two things—timers and cabbages.But they did a really good job of carving these two pieces, and the chiseling was exquisitely conceived and full of originality.

The interior and exterior of the cottage echo each other, stereotyped, and the furnishings are exactly the same.The floor was covered with square tiles, and chairs and tables of dark wood had slender, curved legs and puppy-dog-shaped feet.The mantelpiece is wide and high, not only is there a timer and cabbage carved on the front, but also a real clock in the center of the top, ticking loudly, and a vase with cabbage at each end .Between each cabbage and the clock was another little china figure with a big belly, and a big round hole in the belly, through which you could see the dial of a watch.

A large, deep fireplace houses curved firewood shelves.There was always a merry fire dancing inside, and a great cauldron on which pickled cabbages and pork were cooking, and the good housewife of the house was always busy tending it.She was a dumpy old woman with blue eyes and a rosy face and a big sugar-loaf-shaped hat with a purple-and-yellow band.Her dress was orange, a linen-wool blend, tightly wrapped at the hips and cut short at the waist--in fact it was narrow the rest of the way, too, and bared above her thighs.Her legs and ankles were thicker, but they were covered by a nice pair of green stockings.

The pink feather shoes are tied with a yellow ribbon folded into the shape of a cabbage.In her left hand she held a small, heavy German watch; in her right she swung a long-handled spoon over pickled cabbages and pork.Beside her stood a fat, striped cat with a gilded toy reed watch tied to its tail as a "boys" prank. The three boys were all feeding the pigs in the garden.They are two feet tall.He wore a pointed hat, a purple vest that reached his thighs, knee-length buckskin shorts, red stockings, and heavy boots with large silver buckles, and a suit with large mother-of-pearl buttons. men's coat.Each had a pipe in his mouth, and a small watch in his right hand.They puff, look at their watches, puff again, and look at their watches.The fat, lazy pig is now busy nibbling a fallen cabbage leaf and kicking back a gilt reed watch, which the naughty children have tied to its tail to make it look Pretty as that cat.

To the right of the main entrance stood a high-backed armchair with a leather upholstery, like the table, with curved legs and puppy-shaped feet. The old man of this family sat on it.He was a very fat little gentleman with big round eyes and a fat double chin.He was dressed exactly like the boys—I need say no more about that.The difference was that his pipe was larger than the boys', so he could make a bigger puff of smoke.Like them he had a watch, but it was in his pocket.To tell the truth, he had something more important to focus on than the watch—what that was, I'll mention shortly.There he sat, with his right leg crossed over his left knee, with a bleak countenance, but at all times at least one eye was fixed on some prominent object in the middle of the plain.

That target is located on the steeple of the town council building.The members of the town council were small, plump, slick, intelligent people; with big round eyes, and fat double chins, compared to the average resident of Wodunwortimitis. , their coats are much longer and the buckles on their shoes are much larger.During my stay in town, they held several special meetings and adopted the following three important proposals: "It is wrong to change old good traditions." "Things outside of Wodunwater Metis are unbearable." And—"We will be true to our clocks and cabbages."

Above the chamber of the Council was the steeple, and within it was the tower, where the great clock of Woddenwortimitis had long been kept.It is the pride of the villagers, and people cherish it very much.It was the clock that the old gentlemen in their leather-upholstered armchairs were staring at. The bell has seven faces - one on each of the seven faces of the minaret - so that it can be easily seen from all directions.Its huge dial is white and its heavy hands are black.There was a watchman in the clock-tower, whose only duty was to look after the clock; and it was the perfect idle job--for nothing ever went wrong with the clock in Wodunwothimitis.Until recently, the mere assumption of this would have been considered heresy.From the earliest ages that can be traced in history, the time has been accurately sounded by the big clock.The same goes for virtually every other clock and watch in town.Nowhere else is time kept as precise as this.When the great bell of the great clock thought it necessary to say "Twelve o'clock!", all its obedient followers responded at the same time, like a great echo.In short, the good folk love their pickles, but they're also proud of their clocks.

All men who hold nominal positions are more or less respected, and since the Watcher of the Clock Tower of Wodunwothimitis occupies the most perfect position, he is naturally the most respected man in the world.Even the pigs looked at him with awe as the most important man in the town.His coat-tail was much longer than that of any other gentleman in the town--his pipe, his shoe-buckles, his eyes, and his belly were much larger than anyone else's; and as for his chin, it wasn't just double, But three layers. So far, I have described the happy state of Wodun Wotimitis: Alas, if such a beautiful picture is not destroyed! There is an old proverb among the wisest inhabitants that "no good comes over the hills";Just at five minutes to twelve noon the day before yesterday, a strange-looking thing appeared on the top of the eastern ridge.The situation, of course, attracted general attention, and every little old man sitting in a leather-upholstered armchair turned one eye in a panic to the thing, and the other to the great clock on the steeple. Just three minutes before noon, the strange thing that had been suspected was a small, foreign-looking young man.He rushed down the hill so fast that everyone could see him clearly in no time.He was literally the most refined man to ever appear in Wodunwortimitis.He had a smoky complexion, with a long, hooked nose, eyes the size of peas, and a large mouth with good teeth.It seemed that he really wanted to show off his beautiful teeth, so he just grinned.His face was full of mustache and whiskers.But the forehead is exposed, and the hair is neatly done with curling paper.He wore a tailored black tuxedo jacket (with a white handkerchief dangling from one pocket), knee-length black cashmere wool shorts, black stockings, and a pair of stubby, soft moccasins decorated with Large bundle of black forged straps.Under one arm he carried a huge silk cocked hat, and under the other a violin almost five times his size.He held a gold snuff bottle in his left hand, and when he was leaping down the hill with all kinds of strange steps, he kept smoking snuff from it, with a complacent expression on his face.God bless! ——This is what the most honest people of Wodunwothimitis saw! Frankly, despite the fellow's grin, the fellow had a reckless, sinister, wicked face; and his ancient, stubby shoes hadn't caught on as he sprang straight into the village. arouse people's suspicion.Many who saw him that day would not have bothered to glance at him down to the thin white handkerchief that dangled from the pocket of his tuxedo coat.But what aroused everyone's indignation was that this rascal dandy danced a Spanish dance here and a pirouette there, without the slightest thought of keeping his steps in time. But the good townspeople hardly had the opportunity to fully open their eyes when the villain hopped right into their midst, and it was only half a minute before noon.Here he did a slide, there a rooster solo, and then, after a spin and a zephyr, he dove-like up the tower of the town council building.The stunned tower-keeper sat smoking his cigarette in solemn astonishment.The little guy grabbed his nose and shook and pulled; he also slapped the big three-cornered hat on his head, knocking it down to cover the watchman's eyes and mouth; That gigantic violin, played him long and hard.As the watchman is so fat, and the violin is so empty, you'd swear it was a troop of double-bass drummers thrashing the devil's beat in the spire of Wodunwater's Metis Spire. It is impossible to know how desperate the residents were to avenge this inhuman attack, but the important thing is that it is only half a second before noon.The clock is about to strike, and everyone absolutely must keep an eye on his watch.However, it is obvious that the guy on the tower above the clock is doing something that has nothing to do with him.But the bell had already begun to strike, and no one had time to pay any attention to what he was doing, because they all had to count the ringing of the bell. "One!" The bell rang. "One!" echoed each of the little old men in the leather-padded armchairs of Wodunwothimitis. "One!" Their watches rang: "One!" Their wives' watches rang: "One!" The watches on the children rang, and so did the little toy reed watches on the cat and the pig's tail. "Two!" The big bell continued to strike; "Two!" All the responders responded. "Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven! Eight! Nine! Ten!" the big bell struck. "Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven! Eight! Nine! Ten!" replied the others. "Eleven!" The big bell rang. "Eleven!" A group of little things responded. "Twelve!" The big bell rang. "Twelve!" they replied with great satisfaction, lowering their voices. "It's twelve!" said all the little old men, raising their watches.But the big clock did not let go. "Thirteen!" It rang again. "Devil!" gasped the little old men, and grew pale, and dropped their pipes, and dropped their right legs from their left knees. "Devil!" they groaned, "thirteen o'clock! Thirteen o'clock!!!—God, it's thirteen o'clock!!" Why try to paint the horror that ensued?The whole of Wodunwothimitis was at once in a pathetic state of commotion. "What's the matter with my stomach?" shouted all the boys—"I'm hungry by this time!" "What's the matter with my pickled cabbage?" screamed all the housewives. "It's about to boil!" "What's the matter with my pipe?" cursed all the little old men, "what a thunderstorm; it should be finished by this time!" —they filled their pipes again in a rage, sat back in their armchairs, and puffed out so fast and furiously that the whole valley was immediately filled with thick smoke. At the same time all the cabbages turned red on their faces, and everything in the form of clocks seemed to be possessed by demons.The clocks carved into the furniture began to dance as if enchanted, and those carved on the mantelpiece struck thirteen incessantly, as if unable to restrain their own rage.The pendulum wobbled and twisted so horribly that people dared not look at it.But the worst thing was that neither the cat nor the pig could bear the sound of the little reed watch tied to their tail, and ran about trying to vent their anger on it.They scrambled and shrieked, ran into people's faces, or passed under petticoats, creating a scene of chaos and misery beyond the imagination of reasonable people.Adding to the annoyance is the fact that the incorrigible little villain on the Spire is clearly doing as much evil as he can.Now and then he could be glimpsed through the smoke, riding on the upturned watchman in the bell tower.He held the bell rope with his teeth and kept jerking it with his head. As long as I remembered the noisy sound, my ears would "buzz" again.There was the huge violin on his lap, and he was scratching it with both hands, playing "Flanagan's Judy and Riverti's Paddy," out of tune and out of tune.The fool! As it happened so tragically, I left this place in disgust, and I'm asking for help from all the hot-timed and delicious-tasting cabbage people here: let's all rush to that town, get that little villain off the steeple, and restore the fertile land again. The ancient order of Metis in Dunwall. (1850)